Summer Fashion Decisions

I probably won't be buying tons of new clothes this summer. When I say probably, I mean I won't.

However, if I buy one or two items, I do want them to be exactly the perfect thing that I can wear anywhere all summer. We're getting ready to go to the beach for a bit (not yet, but in a few weeks), and I'd prefer to buy them beforehand. So what can I wear at the beach/on the beach but can still utilize when I get back and am just lounging around the house or out and about in Charlotte?

Here are a few options.

Blouse - H&M

Heide Mint Dress - Francesca's

Blouse - H&M

Blouse Detail

Dress - H&M - I think this might be too 2000's, but I like that it wraps.

Which one do you love? I'm thinking of going with something similar to the off-white blouse from H&M. I love the lace. I may check out a few of my favorite boutiques in Charlotte, ivy & leo, Blush, and Francesca's.

Things to Do in My Summer Attire - 

28 Summer Cocktails

Celebrate America! Charlotte Symphony Concert in the Park

Date night to one of Charlotte's tasty restaurants.

Explore a Charlotte Museum.

Grill out with friends

Pack a picnic for the Whitewater Center

How do you make decisions on what to buy for the summer season?

Childress Vineyards Lunch Date

Entrance

A few weeks ago, my sister, Jen, and I decided to meet for lunch. Then a few days ago she suggested we meet at a winery/vineyard for lunch. 

Why, of course! Of course we can meet at a winery for lunch on Thursday. What a perfect idea.

This is one of the great things about living in Charlotte while your sister lives down the road in Winston-Salem. In between are numerous wineries, but up until now, we hadn't taken advantage of them.

And it was quite appropriate that we chose Childress Vineyards because today is the Coke 600 [NASCAR Race in Charlotte] and Childress Vineyards is owned by Richard Childress, the owner of Richard Childress Racing. I didn't know this until we were there and I saw all kinds of wine corks with racing numbers on them. There were quite a few racing fans at this fancy, stucco, tuscan winery. Just look at their front doors.

Front Doors

Of course, I couldn't walk through the place without singing [internally], "Try not to think about it, A-lice Chil-dre-sss."

Sweet Nephew

Before we met, I talked to our old neighbor, friend, and wine connoisseur, Ken, to ask if he'd been to Childress before. Of course, he had, and so he gave me the suggestion to try the Cabernet Franc. Jen and I split a bottle at lunch. It was great. It wasn't as sweet as a Merlot, but was more mellow than a Cabernet Sauvignon. 

Perfect Lunch

I had Grilled Chicken and Spinach Gnocchi for lunch. It went above and beyond my expectations. The description said it had "sun dried tomato creme and cipollinis," both of which were amazing. Apparently cipollinis are onions, and the sauce was excellent. I will definitely get this meal again when we go back.

Jen and I hit the walking trails for a few minutes after our meal. We took some great pics.

Sisters

Mommy and Evan

Overall, I was impressed with my first NC Winery. Jen and I had good conversation, a lot of laughs, and delicious food and wine. We plan to return some time in the early fall with our families.

Front Fountain

The Great Gatsby AKA, Leo dies in the pool

I'm wondering why Leonardo DiCaprio ends up in movies where he dies in the water?

Titanic

Seriously. He and death and a water scene go hand in hand.

Inception

And The Great Gatsby is no exception.

If you're mad because I didn't say spoiler alert, the book has been around since 1925 and almost everyone read it in high school (even though the content is way too mature for a 17-year-old), so get over it.

During the final scenes of The Great Gatsby, I couldn't help but think about Titanic and how Leo was holding onto the wood when he died and then sunk into the water below. The death scene in Gatsby didn't have the "blow-up mattress" that the book described. I almost wonder if the Baz Luhrmann felt Leo's death on a water mattress would have been too close to Titanic's death on a wood plank. But Gatsby does sink down through the water towards the bottom of the pool, just like in Titanic. The theme of water and DiCaprio is also evident in Inception, where he washes up in the waves on the beach of his dream world. The theme of death is evident in almost all DiCaprio's movies.

Other than this parallelism between the movies, I loved The Great Gatsby. Some people have said the modernism of the music took away from the feel of the movie, but I felt they combined enough jazz era music with the thumping bass of a modern party. I almost think the music was essential for a modern movie-goer to understand how scandalous and erotic Gatsby's parties were. It's easy for an individual to hear jazz music and think about symphonies, orchestras, and Porgy & Bess, instead of the underground jazz movement with flappers, alcohol, and immorality.

I'm also not a huge Tobey McGuire fan, but he played the overwhelmed, insecure, and curiously timid character of Nick Carraway very well. His disgust at the materialism and reckless behavior of Tom and Daisy Buchanan was evident in his ultimate dedication to Gatsby, who he truly would have hated if he hadn't been taken under Gatsby's wing.

I guess Carey Mulligan did a great job too because I was so frustrated and over Daisy by the end of the movie, even though she was gorgeous and stylish.

My favorite quote from the book and movie:

"They were careless people, Tom and Daisy - they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness, or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made..."

3 More Weeks

Spelling tests, homework, math sheets, agenda checks, cleaning out the cubby, turning in homework, taking back library books, standing in line, raising his hand.

E is over it. I'm over it, too.

He is past the point of being ready for summer break. This morning I had to drag that little doodle-head out of bed while he moaned, "I don't want to go to school. How many more days? Which ones are half days? When is Memorial Day?"

We're all pretty miserable about it, even the dog. He's tired of whining at the front door at 8 am when Tyler and E leave.

In the last week E has forgotten to do most of the things essential for success in school. His joy at seeing Mrs. Crawley and his classmates has dwindled, and we're at a low point. June 7 cannot come fast enough. I'm just thankful his school doesn't do EOG's for 2nd graders, or this week would be even more taxing, and his scores would reflect his underwhelmed feelings about school.

It's hard in moments like this to remember how much I love shopping for school supplies, fresh pencils, erasers, notebooks, and markers. I love school.

Today, I just need to dwell on these moments and remember all seasons are both hard and easy.

The Good Old Days

From canitbesaturdaynow.com

Do you ever stop and think, "These are the good old days."

It's true.

One day, you'll look back and remember only the good things that happened today, this week, this year. You'll say, "Remember when we used to be able to go out whenever we wanted; remember when gas was only $3.50/gallon; remember when people could still disconnect from their cell phones; remember when we didn't have to pay a mortgage, student loans, and our parents' nursing home bills; remember when we sat on our porch and ate brunch after our five-mile run; remember when we took that vacation to Florida and slept all week on the beach."

These are the golden years, no matter what anyone says about retirement, because my body doesn't hurt all of the time and most things in the adult world are still new and captivating. But there is always nostalgia attached to previous eras in life, though when life is actually happening, we rarely recognize it.

We grumble. We complain. We hope all of the things we are doing will make the next era of life better. I was reminded of this when I saw Chick-Fil-A's new salad slogan on their cups. They say, "Take Your Taste Buds to Greener Pastures." Of course I want to try their salads with that tag-line.

Sometimes our nostalgia for another era, these good old days, stems from being discontent in our current situation. There is nothing wrong with nostalgia, the kind that warms your heart and makes you smile to yourself especially if no one else is watching, but sometimes we long in desperation for those past days, forgetting that each season of life has its own difficulties and challenges.

Just the other day I was overwhelmed with being a wife, mother, teacher, writer, cleaner, friend, and any other odd role I assume. For a fleeting moment, I longed for grad school, when I was just a single mom and life was easier.

Grad school when I was a single mom and life was easier.

Who am I kidding? Grad school wasn't easier. Being a single mom wasn't easier. I didn't have to cook dinner every night or wash a 3rd person's clothes, but other than that, life was more difficult on all horizons. I am so thankful for Tyler, but in my moment of discontentment, I chose to focus on only the good during that time and the bad things in this moment instead of seeing the truth of my current and previous circumstances.

No matter what era of life you live today, these truly are the good old days. Happy Friday!

MWF Seeking BFF - Book Review

Check out mwfseekingbff.com

This was one of those books that plopped into my lap at the perfect time, and Tyler probably got overwhelmingly annoyed with how often I talked about it. Surprisingly, even with all of my monologues about the book, every time he looked at it he tried to come up with what MWF meant.

Macho Women's Front

Miserable Whales Forever

Mistaken Wart Frog

I actually made those up. His were probably more interesting and inappropriate.

This fun book is the memoir-ish story of Rachel Bertsche, a Chicago journalist, looking for a new BFF. In an attempt to give herself the best opportunity to need a new girl friend (after 2 years of living in the city with her man/husband), she goes on 52 friend-dates in one year. She also uses different methods of meeting friends from internet groups to even renting a friend, which was weird and awkward, but part of her research.

While I would never have the courage to attempt this feat, I was impressed with what Rachel (yes, I'm on a first-name basis with this character - the book left me feeling that close to her) learned about herself and friendship in her late 20's. I understand she also was working on this book as a research project to write a book and it was considered both work and play, but her husband was definitely a trooper to put up with the whole thing, especially since they hadn't been living together/married for a long time. All of those friend dates and reconnections took tons of time, but I guess it is a demanding job to research and write a book.

Rarely am I really inspired by a book. That is a complete lie. I'm typically inspired by books. But this one caused me to be more intentional about the time I spend with other women. I'm the hole-up in my house with my dog and emerge only to do things by myself kind of person, and all of my best friends live in a different state. But I'm taking initiative now to build new friendships here in Charlotte.

MWF Seeking BFF: My yearlong search for a new best friend is definitely worth reading, even if you're one of those people with tons of friends. It helps give insight into what the new girl is thinking, not to mention it's crazy hilarious.

The Eternal Silver Screen

Picture Link

This was my favorite chapter from Letter to My Daughter by Maya Angelou. It's insightful and wise. I love how Angelou reflects on experience and her response to a situation that seems to honor her. So much of our past affects us in so many ways no matter how much we pretend it does not.

Many years have passed since the American Film Institute gave a tribute to William Wyler, one of Hollywood's most prolific and prestigious directors. I, as a member of the Board of Trustees, was asked to participate in the ceremony. I was to make a simple introduction. Of course I was flattered by the invitation and I accepted.

The affair, held at the posh Century Plaza Hotel, was attended by the most glamorous and famous actors and actresses of the day. Fred Astaire was there, as well as Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck. Walter Pidgeon, Greer Garson, Henry Fonda, and Charlton Heston sparkled in the audience. I sad trembling at a table and looked around the room. These were some of the faces which formed my ideas of romance, dignity, and justice. These people on the silver screen had shown grace, morality and beauty, chivalry and courage. Then the picture of the segregated movie house in my small town in Arkansas floated into my consciousness.

Each time my brother and I had gone to a picture show, we had to brave the hostile stares of white adults, and once gaining the box office, we paid our money and were rudely thumbed toward a rickety outdoor staircase which led to the balcony (called a buzzard's roost) restricted to black customers.

There we sat, knees to chin, in the cramped space, our feet crunching discarded candy wrappers and other debris on the floor. We perched there and studied how to act when we grew up and became beautiful and rich and white.

Years had passed and now I sat in the hotel's glittery ballroom and watched as movie star after movie star rose to pay tribute to Mr. Wyler. Old memories had taken me back to days of southern humiliation.  When my name was called, every word of my carefully memorized introduction fled from my mind, and I stood at the microphone looking into the famous faces, furious that they had been, even unwittingly, the agents of my old embarrassments. Anger thickened my tongue and slowed my brain. Only be exercising phenomenal control did I restrain myself from shouting, "I hate you. I hate you all. I hate you for your power and fame, and healthy and money, and acceptance." I think I was afraid that, if I opened my mouth I would blurt out the truth "I love you because I love everything you've got and everything you are." I stood mute before the famed audience. After a few attempts to speak I mumbled a few words and walked out of the room.

There was a rumor which was untrue that drugs had made me blank out. Upon later reflection of the painful incident, I am remembering what Arkansas gave me. I came to understand that I can never forget where I came from. My soul should always look back and wonder at the mountains I had climbed and the rivers I had forged and the challenges which still await down the road. I am strengthened by that knowledge.

Angelou, Maya. Letter to My Daughter. New York: Random House, 2008. Print.

Letter to My Daughter - Book Review

I'm part of this book club with some church ladies, but I've never been. I'm probably the slackest member of that group as in they may not even know I exist. I have, however, looked at the book list and read a few of the books. The last book of the season is Letter to My Daughter by Maya Angelou. I don't know what I expected, but it's a quick, impressive read. I told Tyler he should read it, though he's not a daughter, because it is so easy. The chapters are short and to the point, and an ADD reader could get through it zippy quick.

That isn't to say it doesn't have content though. Angelou's short chapters each come with a punch in them. If you aren't careful, you'll find yourself captivated and emotionally involved in the saga.

I love how Angelou combines philosophy, stories, poetry, and history into her book. Each chapter reminded me of a little antidote you may hear from an older, wiser individual. This would make sense considering Angelou's history growing up in Arkansas and then San Francisco in the 30's and 40's.

Letter to My Daughter encapsulates so many of the hard lessons Angelou has learned in a world of hate, crime, discrimination, and love. I loved it.

Favorite Quotes -

"The epitome of sophistication is utter simplicity."

"Since life is our most precious gift,/ And since it is given to use to live but once,/ Let us so live that we will not regret/ Years of uselessness and inertia."

Happier at Home - Book Review

So, here is the deal on Happier at Home by Gretchen Rubin. It cultivated a contemplative mentality about my attitude in life. I really enjoyed this aspect of the book. I liked all of the active things she did. She would come up with specific, detailed directions to help her in her search for happiness, especially related to her home life.

I think my favorite aspect was about possessions and time. I liked that she felt items should only be in a home if they are beautiful or useful. I need to follow this rule pronto. She also suggested that there is no time like the present, which I agree with in theory but rarely enact on a daily basis. It's true - "these are the good old days."

A good quote
"Also, I suffered from the persistent delusion that once I got through the next three or four months, things would slow down. "I'll have more time during the holidays - or after the holidays - or once the summer's here." I'd promised myself, over and over. But things never slowed down. If I wanted a feeling of unhurriedness, I would have to create it now." - pg. 133

So here is the rub. I felt like her arguments and ideas lacked absolute-ism. I know the book is an example of what she did to seemingly make herself happy and technically I should create my own happiness project, but most of the things she did I probably wouldn't do. So while I enjoyed reading it, there were moments where the description went on too long because I wasn't interested in that particular topic. Most of the things she did wouldn't make me feel happy, and while she argues it's not about feeling happy, I wouldn't enjoy a miniature art project hidden in my kitchen cabinet. I have too many dishes for that.

And it's not just that I wasn't always enraptured by her words, but I also don't feel like she was truly happy either. Very often she would admit her failure to carry out her ideals. She would get behind, get discouraged, and while I'm glad she was honest about it, I also think she is seeking to "feel" happy ultimately without actually being happy. She encourages the reader to find their own happiness, but really I didn't feel like her example led to lifelong happiness, but just to keep creating and fulfilling more goals, an endless cycle that can never be completed.

She has some great points. You cannot make anyone else happy. True.

I don't agree with all her points. I don't believe we alone can make ourselves happy and that focusing on ourselves makes us happy. She says, "we all have to find happiness for ourselves," but I don't think that's within the human realm. We aren't self-sufficient in anything. Sometimes we even need help blowing our noses. We are that needy. She also suggests that a feeling of control is a very important aspect of happiness. A feeling of control can be very misleading. Very often, we may feel in control, but not actually be in control at all. So that false feeling makes us happy? This seems like a nice idea, but none one chose which family to be born in to, none of us chose as to whether or not our boss would hire us or if the stock market would crash. We aren't really in control. So even if I feel like I am, that sense of happiness is a delusion and not something I can put my faith and hope in.

Don't get me wrong, being motivated to be proactive and accomplish goals is positive. But as for it leading to eternal happiness? I'm not convinced.

Just so I'm not a complete Debbie Downer, here are a couple of practical to-do's, which I enjoy and hope to accomplish.
- A door or drawer should be easy to close
- Replace a lightbulb or toilet paper roll right away
- Someplace, keep an empty shelf; someplace, keep a junk drawer

Check out the online Book Club I'm participating in thanks to My Pretty Pennies.

Lately.

It's been a few weeks. I won't apologize. It's not that I haven't been thinking about what to blog and when to blog it. I have, but the posts just haven't materialized.

I'll be honest. I've been struggling with stress and anxiety. It's starting to take a physical toll on my body, too. I've started clenching and grinding my teeth, which I think I did before, but now I'm waking up with a sore jaw. Also, my hair has started falling out, and I have a bald spot (No, I will not show it to you). The hair issue started in Fall '11, but has continued to get worse over time.

It sounds awful, I get married and suddenly I'm stressed and my hair is falling out. But, it's not Tyler's fault. It's mine.

Instead of dealing with any of the stress of the last 10 years, I've compartmentalized it. It's all still jumping around in rooms in my brain, waiting for the door to be opened the slightest amount, and then all of the events and circumstances come flooding back. I find myself an angry person.

My only response emotion is anger. I rarely am excited or surprised by anything. If I'm responding to someone else, I typically feel anger. Don't get me wrong, I still love going to do fun things but my emotions are more diminished than they should be/could be.

Poor Tyler.

Since I've finally realized it, it's time for me to work through everything. It's time for me to embrace pain, loneliness, grief, and fear. Hopefully then, I can move through it and past it.

I'm ready.

Also, this is my favorite picture lately. I love these two guys and their relationship together. Just recently, during E's spring break, my dad taught him to whittle, to drive the tractor on his own, and to take apart a carburetor.

Meet Puppy Walt

Walt and Me

Currently, I'm sitting on my couch, typing away on my iPad, taking small sips of my coffee and putting the mug down without a sound. A few minutes ago it took me 7 minutes to start a load of laundry because I tried to adapt to my kitty's ability to move with silent stealth.

Why all of this quiet? The puppy is asleep.

If he was awake, there is no way I would be writing this blog. In fact, I've even considered crating him for an hour or so to get some work done around the house. I know some would chastise me for it, saying I am an awful puppy mom, but work has got to be done.

We've had Walt/Walter/Walt Whitman for 2 weeks now. Last week, I said to E, as he was chomping through his waffle, that we'd had Walt 1 week, and he stopped mid-chew and looked at me with awe.

"It's only been 1 week?" Even at 2 weeks, I still feel the same way.

It seems like yesterday that my friend, Anna, and I drove up to Statesville and brought home this ball of fluff. This ball of fluff that has grown in the 2 week we've had him. He is now 10 lbs and eats like a hog. He also chews on everything. It seems like we just got him and yet it seems as if our life has always been like this.

Some things we've learned in the last 2 weeks:
1. We understand why homeowners don't want to rent a house to someone with a pet. If we weren't so careful, Walt would chew up everything, but he hasn't chewed anything yet. He did attempt to chew the tile floor in the kitchen, which was laughable. I stopped him merely for his own sake.
2. Puppies are sad their first night away from their parents/siblings and cry all night long, preventing anyone in the house from sleeping.
3. Praise works best. Food too.
4. When in doubt, take them out. Walt hasn't had an accident since last Thursday.
5. Watch out for tiny feet when going out the back door. Poor Walty got his foot stuck in the door and we had serious confusion about whether or not he was ok. My thoughts? "Great, we've had the dog 4 days and have already broken him."
6. E and Walt are BFFs.
7. By the time 10 pm rolls around, Tyler and I are exhausted.

But Walt is so cute that all of it is worth it. He is so much fun in moments when he's not biting my pants, shoes, socks, fingers, face, etc., and we are so thrilled to have him. I'm pumped for the day when he's big enough and vaccinated, so I can take him running with me.

Let's Be Honest - Self-Image and Body Type

"What if in 2013 we decided to fast not from food but from body-talk? Sure---hit the gym, eat the Paleo diet, run six miles a day, wear Spanx from neck to knee. Just stop talking about it. Stop telling your friend she looks skinny---instead tell her you love her sweet spirit. Choose compliments that spur her to pursue that which lasts instead of that which certainly does not. If someone comments on your own shape, say thanks and change the subject. Banish body-talk to the same list of off-limits topics as salaries, name-dropping, and colonoscopies. Apply the discipline you use to work out to controlling your tongue. Do this for your sisters, and by the grace of God, we could begin a legacy of womanhood that celebrates character over carb-avoidance, godliness over glamour. - From "New Year, New Self-Control" by Jen Wilkin

A few of my friends posted a link to this blog in January (or late December), and I just recently read it again. This message is perfect for the months heading into summer. I feel like this is the time when people are on their bikini diets, hoping to shed a few pounds before they're forced to step foot on the beach in a "comfortable," skimpy bathing suit. I don't think many bathing suits could be called more than skimpy.

It's just so easy to let conversation casually fall into the realm of body-image and dieting. I admittedly love to talk on the subject, especially if it's guised under the pseudonym "exercise." I can talk about exercising all day and how much I enjoy running, but it's really body-image and how I view myself that I'm probably thinking of.

This is why it's one of my goals in this season not to mention my body or anyone else's for a while. I'm sure I'll fail, but I really would like to make this a way of living. If I focus on the more important things, like personality, interests, family, friends, what we're learning about work, ourselves, etc, then I can encourage a friend much more than if I mention her body.

I remember back when I actively struggled with my body-image (I still do, but I don't usually take unhealthy action against body fat anymore, thankfully), if someone commented on how good I looked, it reinforced the idea that I was doing the right thing. I wasn't giving my body exactly what it needed to function well, but I was getting compliments on how great I looked, so I should obviously keep on with the self-deprivation. I'm sure the people who told me I looked great had no clue what they were encouraging, but it was true for me nonetheless.

I never want to be responsible for encouraging anyone else in that way. Our words and make and break other people. And a topic like body-image and dieting, especially for women, is a drug.

On the flip side, I think if someone is struggling with body-image issues, they feel more comfortable talking about it with a friend who doesn't always comment on their body but instead focuses on hobbies, interests, and life. That's the kind of friend I would prefer to be.

I'm glad he won't remember this...

Spring Picture Day 2013 - My favorite Boy

One of the things I've found that really knocks me out of my comfort zone is the phrase, "I'm glad they won't remember this..."

I usually hear it in reference to parents disagreeing over child-rearing tactics while their kids are still crawling, drooling, and oblivious.

But it's one of the many things I can never utter. E will always remember.

Being an 8-year-old, he is currently gathering memories and feelings to keep forever. I don't remember specifics about being eight. I'm sure I could come up with some stories, especially if I had my memory jogged by looking at awkwardly awesome photographs from the 90's. However, if I think back to my childhood, I can definitely remember when my parents argued, how much they argued (thankfully not that much), and how it was resolved or wasn't. I especially remember the feeling I felt when they didn't get along perfectly.

Keeping that in mind, I assume that arguments Tyler and I have will be logged in his memory, and whether he remembers them specifically or remembers the feelings he felt when we argued, it doesn't matter.

I want Tyler and I to suddenly be able to disagree with each other, argue well, never lose our temper, and quickly make-up with much grace and forgiveness, for our own sake as well as E's sake.

How Tyler and I respond to each other will influence how E responds to us. We don't have 3-4 years of parenting before our child remembers what we say or the general tone of the household. We have a child who says, "Please get along," when we barely discuss things and aren't even upset with each other or offended.

It's also problematic if we just get along to get along. If we disagree on something and don't address it in front of E, but only wait until later to discuss, then he will never learn conflict resolution. If we resolve our conflict, he will learn how to resolve conflict as well.

If we just put it off until later, when he's sound asleep in his renovated attic bedroom, then he misses out on great opportunities to learn. But I know there is a fine line in him seeing conflict resolution and him seeing my own anger and control-freak issues coming to light when Tyler parents differently (and obviously incorrectly) from my own preferences.

If I don't show Tyler respect, E will never show Tyler respect. E follows what I model.

So the newly-wed, quick goals for parenting are:
1. When disagreement arises, if the material is suitable, let E hear some disagreement
2. Make sure if E does hear disagreement, to resolve is ASAP (also in front of him)
3. If I don't agree with Tyler's decision-making at all in regard to E, zip my lip and save it so E will respect Tyler(this is the hardest by far)
4. Love, Mercy, Grace, Forgiveness, Sympathy, Compassion - These are words to live out daily as I interact with my family. They are words I hope my family will remember when interacting with me.

10 Years Ago

After reading, "What Alice Forgot" by Liane Moriarty, I'm left considering how people change and what 10 years can do to how we act.

It's frightening to think that in 10 years my values and daily habits could have changed so much as to seem like a completely different person, maybe even a person I wouldn't enjoy being around or having as a friend.

Would you want to be your own friend? Would you trust yourself with all your secrets and emotions?

I'm not sure if I'd want to be my own friend, but I'm thankful for all of the people who do. I honestly don't know that I'll have changed that much in 10 years.

But then I think back to 10-years-ago, when I was 17, and I realize how my life and habits have changed since then.

10-years-ago I didn't drink coffee, I didn't exercise regularly, I consumed entirely too much meat and not nearly enough nutrients. I ate a pack of crackers and half an apple for lunch, and I often bought Grandma's cookies from the cafeteria at school.

10-years-ago I wasn't thankful for friends or family. I took everything for granted and planned my future as if I knew exactly what would happen and when. As Tom Hawkes said this past Sunday, "If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans."

I probably still take most things for granted, but I've come so far as to be aware that I do so and hope to be more thankful daily.

While I wonder if 10 years could change me that much, 9-years-ago my life was changed as I was 18-years-old and pregnant during my senior year of high school.

8-years-old I became an adult. My values changed, my goals changed, I knew I had no control over anything. I no longer hoped for a regular college experience. I no longer hoped to travel abroad as an exchange student or live in Europe for a few years. I just hoped to be self-sustaining for E and myself.

So when I think about it in retrospect, I know I could be dramatically different as I get closer to 40, but I hope that unlike Alice's character in "What Alice Forgot," I won't be a horrendous, overachiever soccer mom who has no joy in life but controlling and over-managing her children's lives, friends, mothers, and events.

Only by the grace of God...

How much have you changed in 10 years?

By the way, I really want to start packing lunches this way.

What Alice Forgot - Book Review

Image from Goodreads

It's been a while since I've read a modern fiction story that hasn't been cheapened by references to Facebook and internet drama. Well, this isn't entirely true as I rarely read this type of fiction, but it is true I haven't really adapted to techno-savvy literature. I prefer the ideal, pre-internet works that remind me of better days when life was real.

However, What Alice Forgot by Liane Moriarty refreshed my view of relatively new fiction, and I was surprised how much I enjoyed the story.

While I'm describing the book, don't be surprised if you think it sounds cheesy and lame. I felt the same way while describing the book to my mother-in-law. As I outlined the plot, I found myself thinking, "Glory, I've lost my sense of quality literature and a critical mind. Come back, grad school, come back!"

But then, after careful thought about this book review, I decided there really were some great qualities to What Alice Forgot that rose above and beyond my expectations for modern literature in a seemingly shallow world.

What Alice Forgot is the story of a woman who woke up after a seemingly-epic gym accident and had lost the last 10 years of her memory. She was really a 39-year-old mother of three but believed she was 29 and pregnant with her first daughter (Yes, it sounds lame.).

But, it's wasn't lame. Moriarty revives this cliche amnesiac type of literature as she creates a very defined line between 29-year-old Alice and 39-year-old Alice. I think one of the things I liked most about the book was how the book challenged me to think through how much a person's habits, preferences, daily activities, and priorities can change within a 10-year period.

I really related with the 29-year-old Alice (shocker, right?) but was also frightened by how serious I am in comparison to over-achiever 39-year-old Alice. I probably relate more to the 39-year-old Alice minus the soccer-mom, PTA President, Control Freak aspect. Ok, I am a control freak, but I try and maintain a subtle control freak mentality instead of a take the bull by the horns, stand on top of the mountain control freak. But the juxtaposition created between the 2 characters, even though they were the same person, was the best.

1998 Alice is naive and giggly, taking in the sensory elements of her life and responding with random, witty reparte.

I like the dialogue between Alice and her young daughter, who Alice couldn't remember. Her daughter claims to be sick and asks Alice how to get well. Alice's response: "You should do a cartwheel. That will cure you." Of course, her daughter could do a perfect cartwheel. It was a nice fun-mom moment.

I also liked how I was kept guessing about this Gina character and what happened with her/Alice's husband, Nick/Alice. I won't reveal the true situation, obviously, but I definitely tracked along with Alice's guesses. It was almost as if the reader recovers from amnesia along with Alice.

One of the random things about the novel was how the story was primarily about Alice, but Alice's sister and "grandmother" also had their own chapters and narration in the form of letters to a psychologist and old fiance, respectively. At first, I didn't track with these narrations, but as the story unfolded, I found them essential to understanding the meaning of relationships and how communication plays a role in shaping our lives, for good or for bad, especially in the lives of women.

One more thing about What Alice Forgot. I thought the Lemon Meringue Pie situation was one of the weirdest things I've ever read in a novel. It definitely proved the craziness of 2008 Alice but almost seemed too much. Do PTA's really do crazy stuff like that? Can 10 years really change a person that much? You'll have to let me know if you read it. It was amusing nonetheless.

Favorite quote from What Alice Forgot:

"They would think she was savoring the taste (blueberries, cinnamon, cream – excellent), but she was actually savoring the whole morning, trying to catch it, pin it down, keep it safe before all those precious moments became yet another memory."

On the road to a gluten-free, artificial-coloring free, dairy-free life

Goodbye, Wheat Bread! 

I've known since E was 2-weeks-old that lactose was not a friend of his stomach. For the first year of his life I abstained from any lactose digestion for the sake of nursing and my desire for sleep at night without a screaming baby with a squalling stomach.

But in the last year, it's become apparent that E's stomach not only doesn't like lactose, it doesn't seem to like processed, gluten-filled anything or artificial colors and preservatives. I think in the last month, we've had maybe 2 days where he hasn't complained about his stomach.

HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?

I guess our time has been coming for a while now. E never gets sick. He's never had the flu, strep-throat, or even an ear infection.

So it's not surprise that his issues come in the form of food allergies and their influence over his ability to have a happy stomach and to be calm.

I won't complain about it because I've been reminded so recently about the fragility of life and how thankful I am for a healthy, capable child.

However, we will face challenges as we enter into this new era of dietary restriction, and I'd be lying if I said I looked forward to it, especially when it comes to going out to eat and dining with other families and friends. Don't forget the lunch box. Packing a lunch box can be a difficult thing on a gluten-free diet.

Any suggestions? I've been scouring the Gluten Free Girl blog and A Girl Defloured blog.

Love To Hate

Image Link

"Love To Hate"

A few semesters back, one of my students had this tattooed on her wrist. I'm not really sure exactly why she chose this particular phrase, though I think it had something to do with a relationship in her life that she loved and hated at the same time.

However, I was struck by her choice to use the phrase "love to hate" because it shows great wisdom into how we view many of our relationships. I'm not suggesting to go out and tattoo that on your wrist, but I do think her tattoo brings up a good point.

In general, it's easy to be a bad friend. It's easy to love our friends so much and then judge them behind their backs, even if it's just in our mind. This is especially the case with friends who own more material possessions than we do.

When a friend gets a new car, necklace, or a trip to France, we say, "Love it!" We ogle over their trinket, we look up tours for them to take on their trip and tell them how much we love everything about the gift, trip, or house decor. This kind of ogling is especially easy with Facebook.

But the truth is, our love isn't always sincere. Sometimes we only "love" this friend because we desire to be like them. This isn't real love at all. This is idolizing a friend. We put them on a pedestal, hoping to be like this friend one day or have the things they do. We are not a true friend.

When it turns out we aren't like that friend, when we don't get that raise, when our husband doesn't get that new job with business perks and a nice salary, then we're jealous because we don't have what our friends do. We're jealous because we'll have to skip out on the fancy dinner, the matching BMW's, the trips abroad.

We don't have what they do, and we deserve is just as much, right?

Our culture tells us because we were born American, we are inherently entitled to certain blessings and small fortunes. But our culture is wrong.

This particular issue is a challenge for me because Tyler and I are still in the beginning of building our marriage. We are newly weds on one hand, but on the other we have an 8-year-old and hopes of more children sooner rather than later. So it's easy to look at our friends without kids, both working full-time, making plenty of money and compare ourselves. It's easy to look at our friends with plenty of kids, many years of marriage under the belt, with established lives and homes, and feel the same pangs. We're kind of in a category of our own, which has always been the case for E and Me, and now Tyler too.

But by no means are we alone. It's easy for anyone to look at others, because someone else will always have more than we do, and judge their lives.

If I find a beautiful kitchen in a magazine, I want it and love it. But if my friend actually has that kitchen from the magazine and hasn't gone into serious debt to get it, it's easy to judge the kitchen as extravagant and unnecessary. I may even go as far as to think she's wasteful with her money.

But I'm at fault here. I want to truly love my friends. I never want to judge them because I'm really jealous of what they have. The truth is, Tyler and I have more than we deserve. We are blessed and provided for daily.

A heart of jealousy and judgement is one without any thanks.

Also, see my new page, "READ" - I'm channeling the powers of the READ posters by the American Library Association. You know, the ones with famous celebrities you used to see on the walls of your library. It's my booklist for 2013. It will say what I'm currently reading, plan to read, and have already read.

There's no good way to say Pusey

I've been doing a study on Melissa Kruger's book The Envy of Eve (I've mentioned it before), and I recently came across some words by E.B. Pusey (1800-1882). Yes, there is no good way to say his last name. I've racked my brain for all sorts of different pronunciations, but my hope is that it was pronounced with a French accent for his sake.

No matter how you say his last name, he had this challenging list of rules for growing contentment. You've got to get beyond the thou's and the thyself's, but the list is incredible and tells a lot about the state of my discontent heart. Here is the list with my own commentary added:

1. Allow thyself to complain of nothing, not even the weather.

Let me just say that I can complain about any weather situation. It's either too hot or too cold. The wind is just too much, the humidity, the drought, the excessive rain, etc. And the weather is just the tip of the iceberg.

2. Never picture thyself to thyself under any circumstances in which thou are not.

At first I didn't get this one, but it's a knife in the chest. It's so easy to over-exaggerate about my circumstances and wallow in my own self-pity or despair. I don't even have to have other people tell me how sorry they are for me. If I convince myself a situation is worse than it really is, then I've lost more than half of the battle right there.

3. Never compare thine own lot with that of another.

Well, this one about says it all. Do not compare yourself to others. Yes, we've all heard this since we were children, but it's just as true for adults. Actually, adults probably compare themselves with each other more than children. Only teenage girls rival adults in comparison, and I can say that because I was a teenage girl and I still have my memory.

4. Never allow thyself to dwell on the wish that this or that had been, or were, otherwise than it was, or is. God Almighty loves thee better and more wisely than though doest thyself.

While this language is particularly confusing, I think it brings me back to what my friend, Jenna, brought up in our recent discussion. She reminded me of this amazing series I read as a teenager (not the most quality literature but good for teen girls) called the Christy Miller Series. In that series, Christy talks about living in the land of "if only." This is detrimental to our current happiness in that we fantasize about all the things that could have happened, or should have happened, or we wish had happened instead of focusing on reality and what actually did happen. I find myself there a lot these days. 

5. Never dwell on the morrow. Remember that it is God's, not thine. The heaviest part of sorrow often is to look forward to it. The Lord will provide.

I don't know about you, but I never, and I mean rarely ever, never, not many times ever, look forward to sorrow. I don't celebrate because my heart is torn in two. I basically do the opposite of 1-4 in situations where I am out of control and don't have things going my way. 

I'd say these 5 guidelines get successively harder. But I'm tired of discontentment (here I am complaining about discontentment, breaking number 1). I'm ready to move forward and enjoy what I have been given like being chilled to the bone (we live in NC, so it's not that cold), and I'm ready to spread joy and happiness in my conversations with others.

I'm going to make these muffins for E this weekend.

New favorite blazer in Rust!

Asteroid Attack

from Mashable.com

It's happening like the movies.

Asteroid Surprise. Sounds like a breakfast cereal or dog food.

But seriously, the videos of asteroids in the Russian sky look like a scene from a sci-fi thriller. Will Smith and his alien guns should at least be present to make the realistic seem more fantastic.

I guess this "not too rosy" outlook for more of these asteroids happening and people being wounded (over 1,000 to date!) doesn't really hit home that much as I've never been to Siberia, nor Russia, and it's hard to relate to their struggle here in my Charlotte bubble of snow that doesn't stick and homemade lattes from my hubby in the early afternoon.

Not that I don't have sympathy for these people. I absolutely think it's awful they experienced that, though it was an epic sight. I cannot envy or comprehend the sound of it or the ringing in their ears they will experience for days.

But doesn't it just seem contrived? With all of the post-apocalyptic literature and movies taking the stage these days, it just seems like reality is impersonating what it's read or watched. As if we humans expected something like this to happen, therefore it did.

I cannot get over this video. It just seems surreal.

Happy Friday!

It never stops surprising me how quickly the weeks fly by. This weekend I'm taking extra time out to clean our house and straighten some of the random things we haven't put away since the move. If there is not room, they're going in the trash. I'm always challenged to break my packrat habits. I have to practice so hopefully one day, I won't want to keep every little thing.

Also, my brother-in-law is coming in town, so we'll be entertaining and enjoying time with him.

I may do some gardening as well. Any suggestions? I'm pulling up a bunch of monkey grass and planting something...but the question is what? What are you planting this year?

I was thinking some of these mostly because Tyler gave me some for Valentine's day!

From RunnersDelight

I think it's time to call the Mother-figure. She always know what plants are in season.

Have a great, restful weekend.

In honor of President's Day on Monday, enjoy a military Harlem Shake.

The Fingernail Project

I bite my fingernails. It's my dirty habit that isn't so much a secret because no one thinks, oh wow, she cuts her nails really short. No one cuts their nails that short.

The only times in my whole life when I've had fingernails that exceeded my fingertip were when I was on prenatal vitamins and when I got fake gel ones for my wedding (which were a huge mistake, felt uncomfortable, and I ended up jamming one off while Tyler and I played pool on our honeymoon. Never again).

But I'm tired of ugly nails. I really don't even have the option to get a manicure, not that I'm itching to run out and get one, but it would be nice to have the option.

Hence, I introduce the Fingernail Project.

My attempts to stop biting my nails:
1. Keep them painted a light/non-overbearing color
2. Take GNC WOMEN'S Hair, Skin & Nails Formula vitamins daily
3. Whenever I think to bite or pick my nails, I will calmly and collectedly sit on my hands until the temptation passes*
4. I will post a picture of my nappy hands online weekly to show my hopeful progress and fun polish colors.

*Driving and standing up are the exceptions to this rule. In these cases, I will shove them in my pockets, put them at 10 and 2 on the steering wheel, or just separate my hands from each other at all costs.

Week 1 picture. The nail polish is a cheap-o color I found at Rite Aid. Julie's Chic Cipro.

Week 1 - Julie's Chic Cipro

BTW, Steve Martin is a dad. His wife doesn't look 41.

And I really like this song. And this one.

What We Do

Pretend to hate the cat and then snuggle with her

Style it up!

Show off my nephew(center)!

Design crazy, green men.

Let tooth pulling be the highlight at our superbowl party

Lose the first tooth at 8. I pulled it.

Snuggle and Read. Repeat.

Bossypants Book Review

Dear Tina Fey,

I couldn't stop laughing. My dad is a southern version of yours.

Sincerely,
Melissa LaCross

P.S. I've never actually watched 30 Rock, but I hope to if it's on Netflix.

Some favorite quotes from Bossypants:

"What Turning Forty Means to Me: I need to take my pants off as soon as I get home. I didn't used to have to do that. But now I do" (265). *

"I searched the audience for him(dad) during the sixth-grade chorus concert and, seeing his stern expression, was convinced that he had seen me messing up the words to the Happy Days theme and that I was in big trouble. I spent the rest of the concert suppressing terror burps, only to be given a big hug and a kiss afterward. It took me years to realize, Oh, that's just his face" (46). 

"'Remember when we saw Titanic how mad I was at Kate WInslet when say what? climbed out of the lifeboat and back onto the ship? I think say what? encumbered Leonardo DiCaprio. If say what? had gone on the lifeboat, then he could have had that piece of wood say what? was floating on and they both would have survived. I would never do that to you" (101). 

"On Wednesday night, Alice and I drew a picture of Peter Pan to hang up at the party. I explained to her the apparent licensing problem with the plates. Say what? was understanding and suggested we relax by pretending to be Wendy and a mermaid for the next sixty-five minutes" (204). 

"Also, my crying three times a year doesn't distract me from my job any more than my male coworkers get distracted watching March Madness or shooting one another with Nerf guns" (258-259). 

"First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches" (261). 

"There is no one of-woman-born who does not like Red Lobster cheddar biscuits. Anyone who claims otherwise is a liar and a Socialist" (252). 

"Also, I encourage them (young women who want career advice) to always wear a bra. Even if you don't think you need it, just...you know what? You're never going to regret it" (88).

*I feel this way at 27. By 40 I will be wearing track suits daily.

Let me just say this book made me wish I was hilarious. Moments of literal laughing out loud were frequent, and Tyler finally stopped asking me what was happening because he was tired of my one-liners from the book, which were hilarious in context, but didn't make as much sense to him without me reading 2 whole pages. He wasn't really up for that.

One of the things I really admire about Tina Fey is how she broke into comedy, a world typically dominated by men, and made a name for herself and for women as writers and comedians. Of course, she did all of this while being a wife and mom. I definitely don't envy the hours she works each week, but instead how she really loves what she does both at home and at work.

I honestly didn't have expectations going into this book, as I don't watch 30 Rock and have had so few experiences with SNL, though I've enjoyed the skits I have seen. I really enjoyed the story of her life growing up because she was nerdy and awkward, which I can totally relate to, and so that part of her life kept me really entertained. I like the chapters highlighting one particularly crazy week in her life (where she played Sarah Palin and simultaneously worked on 30 Rock, met Oprah, and hosted her daughter's birthday), but some of the other work stuff wasn't as interesting to me. With celebrities, hearing about their relatively "normal" personal lives and management skills intrigues me the most. I also really loved her beauty tips and pointers for photo shoots.

Fey's book celebrates working women and achieving dreams others often think aren't possible. If you are not a fan of SNL or are uncomfortable with the language used on the show, you shouldn't read this book. As Fey has been a writer on SNL, not surprisingly, the language in the book mirrors that of the show. There were moments where I felt some of it was completely unnecessary, but having lived through public high school and college, I have learned to overlook what comes out of peoples' mouths. She didn't have nearly as many F-bombs as "Next To Normal," the play I went to see a few weekends ago.

If you've thought about wanting to read it, go ahead and do it! If you want to be entertained and don't mind language you wouldn't want your elementary school kid to hear, read it. If you don't answer yes to any of the above, avoid it at all costs.

Our Grammy Experience

T: "Do you think E has been in bed long enough for us to make popcorn without him wanting some?"

M: "No, wait a few."

T: "Why do they keep showing Taylor Swift's reaction to everything?"

M: "Because she has a wedding dress on."
"Look at Justin Timberlake's hair...It looks a lot like yours."

T: "I thought he had curly hair. How did he get it to look so good?"

M: "I think he does. He obviously didn't do his own hair. Justin Timberlake sounds better than Mumford & Sons."

T: "Nice. Black and White for JT's song. People all around America are wondering if their TV just broke."

M: "Oh look. The guy from Maroon 5 has the same hair cut as Justin Timberlake, You, and Andy Hoffman."

T: "Megan Clouse (our hairstylist) was on the cutting edge with that look."
"If LL says hashtag one more time, I'm going to rip our TV off the wall."

M: Stares at him

T: "I'll rip it lightly."
"When I look at some of these outfits, it makes me wonder why we still wear clothes."

M: "Miranda Lambert's dress is just too short to be on stage from this angle."

T: "I think it passes the fingertip test."

M: "No way!"

T: "Maybe she just has short arms."

M: "Oh look, it's another Taylor Swift reaction and arm wave."
"Do you think it's awkward that Rihanna and Chris Brown are at the same show?"

T: "They might be back together."

M: "Has she lost too much weight?"

T: "I like her voice."
"What's the big deal with Bob Marley? I've just never gotten it."

M: "He brought reggae to the world. Look at those dreads."
"I love tattoos. They just look so good, especially when dressed up with a nice shirt."

T: "It's your original sin that attracts you to tattoos. I'll forgive you."
"Taylor Swift again?"

M: "Popcorn time."
"Adele's dress looks like a grandmother or Dolores Umbridge from Harry Potter."

T: "I love it."

M: "Wait. Is she pregnant? She just said the last year's winner got knocked up. Did she win last year?"

T: "I don't know."
 "Is that Jack White?"

M: "No that is a random guy with Rihanna. Jack White looks like Johnny Depp's and Tim Burton's wife's child."
"THAT is Jack White with some creepy ghost-looking women."

T: Falls asleep

Sayings of the Boy

My Pensive and Verbose Cowboy

"Oh, that hurts my nozzle." - While playing Angry Birds.

"Graenblanz." - Later translated to mean "oatmeal" in his language. The emphasis is on the second syllable. It must be spoken with an almost German accent.

"When are we going to have another baby?" "What if it's not in Jesus' plan for us to have another baby?" "Could we adopt?" (This progression made my heart so happy and nostalgic).

I told him his spelling word was toad. He needed to write a sentence. His response? "I toad you to wash the clothes? Hahahahhahahaha."

Mary Kulp - Ethan, what was your favorite part of Christmas?
Ethan - Probably getting to see family.

"We about to go cray-cray." - While playing Jetpack Joyride.

Upon seeing the book "How People Change" in my hand - "So I've been seeing that book a lot. So, when are you guys going to change?"

I am a queen.

Yes, I have my own kingdom. You're surprised because I seem least likely to don a tiara and prance around in a sparkling gown. But it's true. Daily, most of the things I decide to do and hope for further the kingdom of Melissa.

Everything is just fine in the Kingdom of Melissa until the Kingdom of Tyler or the Kingdom of Ethan throws a wrench into my plans. Then my frustration builds, and we end up with an all-out war between the kingdoms. Whichever kingdom has more power or logic typically wins. And the other kingdoms are left frustrated and hoping for a re-battle the next day or even hour.

The kingdoms are like tectonic plates. They rub each other the wrong way and POOF! Earthquake. POOF! Tsunami. POOF! Volcano.

Isn't this how we seem to function daily? I was reminded a few days ago how often my interactions with other people are based on what I need to get done on my timetable with my motives.

And to what end? What is the end goal of my kingdom? What is the point? To merely keep me "happy" if everyone else obeys and worships what I decide? What about others' kingdoms? Do I care about their goals or hopes?

And really, should I have a kingdom at all? Am I really fit to be in any kind of control? HECK NO!

Now, some of you aren't tracking with me because you say, "I'm pretty laid back. I go with the flow, and I'm generally good with whatever others want to do."

But wouldn't part of you agree you run the Kingdom of Keeping the Peace, The Kingdom of Others' Approval, The Kingdom of No Conflict? And whoever forces you to make a decision, whoever prevents you from being passive, whoever makes you nervous because you may have to cause conflict, better watch out because you want to send the troops out after them, spears and all. Yes, this is still a kingdom.

So ultimately, I have to give up my kingdom because I'm not the One who should be in charge.
And, as Paul Tripp reminded me, If I pray that tiny prayer — The Lord's Prayer — I'm saying, "thy kingdom come, thy will be done." That really means my kingdom will be obliterated. I cannot be in control if I'm asking God to be. So that tiny prayer isn't so tiny. I'm asking for my Queendom to be over. I'm asking to be taken from the throne and replaced by God.

While this sounds so typical, and we easily say, "Of course I want God to be in control." On a daily level, this is much harder and seemingly impossible than just saying we want it. It's a daily happening, abdicating the throne.